My Marauder
by Sirius Blaak
Summary: A twist on the marauders' relationships. Which marauder belongs to which chapter? That's up to you. Decide which is for the mutinous Peter, the ruleabiding Remus, the athletic James, and the attractive Sirius.
1. Nighttime Secrets

_Short little oneshot about a marauder. Not telling which one it is though, that's for you to decide! Leave a review saying who you think it is. (Yes, I did have a marauder in mind when I wrote this.)_

_And, of course, I do not own Harry Potter or any characters mentioned. Well, none really are mentioned by name, but you know what I mean..._

My Marauder

He had kissed her.

Sure, he had kissed lots of girls, but that was then. That was when I had been a foolish, immature Gryffindor who had counted him as a friend. Not just a friend, my best friend.

I had never been more to him than a girl whose mouth was good for conversation rather than kissing. I had been his only girl friend, his only confident, his only friend he could talk to about his problems and not be made fun of. I had been his 'human diary,' as he had called me.

Then she had come into his life: a smart, pretty Ravenclaw who had taken my place. She had become his emotional outlet, his confident, and his friend.

Then he had kissed her.

Then they had become a couple, and she was the only girl he had kissed that he had seen as more than a pretty face. She had a beautiful brain to go along with it. He liked her for her inside, not her outside.

He may have liked her inside, but he loved my inside. A friend-love way. That's all we had been: friends.

We go way back before Hogwarts. I was a muggle, he was a wizard. Every day, when I would put on my school uniform, I would see him out my bedroom window. He would appear out of nowhere and walk away down the street.

I saw him do this every day, and thought nothing of it. It wasn't that unusual for kids to walk around in the morning anyway.

Then the day of comprehension came. I had contracted the flu, and my mother ordered me to stay in bed and eat chicken broth. I watched him walk down the street and out of sight in the morning, and checked every ten minutes to see if he had returned.

The entire day had passed with no sign of him. My sister and brother had come home from school, greeted me, and gave me sloppy 'Get Well Soon' cards, but there was still no sign of him. My father had come home from work and everyone but me was tucking into a delicious dinner of roast ham, and he had still not come back.

My mother had bathed my brother, and by the time my sister had climbed into the tub, I saw him out my window, walking back towards the spot he appeared from each morning. He turned into that same space, and disappeared.

I watched for him the next day, as I was still sick, and saw that he left at the same time each morning and arrived home the same time each night. I found this odd, as no parents I knew ever let their children walk out of sight for more than a minute, and he was always unaccompanied.

I confronted him the next day.

Although I was still recovering, I walked outside to talk to him anyway. I wrapped myself up in my dressing gown, my winter jacket, and pulled a shawl on over this, so that if my mother saw me, she would know I was taking care of myself.

He was just starting to walk away when I said 'Hello' and introduced myself. Although he looked at me strangely, he did the same. I found out that we were the same age, eight.

I asked him why he did not go to school, and he closed my question with one of his own.

"Have you ever dreamt of being a witch?" He had asked. I answered yes, and mentioned flying on a broom. Right after I said this, a broom flew out of nowhere and smacked him in the head. Although I had just met him, and it was rude, I laughed. He was rubbing his head, but he chuckled about it with me.

That was my first sign of magic.

After that confrontation, it became a weekend tradition for him to come over to my house and for my mother to make us grilled cheese sandwiches. Then she would give us a board game to play or a book to read. Sometimes she would even take us out to the movies. This tradition continued all through my primary school years, and we still got together during our Hogwarts years during the summer.

The summer leading up to our seventh year, we went to a gruesome and scary R rated movie by ourselves. It wasn't a date, it was a friendly outing. I watched the screen, bored, as he snorted and frowned at the crude tricks the director had used to make a vampire. We laughed together as girls screamed and clutched their boyfriends in terror. Nothing scared us, we were completely fearless.

Well, he was completely fearless. I was not afraid of death, torture, or dark wizards, but I was afraid of my own emotions.

This fear became known when I had looked at him one day and subconsciously thought, 'If only he was my boyfriend.' I shook my head, disgusted with myself, and pushed this out of my mind. But my fear had started.

I had fallen in love with my best friend.

Then she had come along. She was a raven-haired goddess; she had the perfect body, grades, and physique. She had become his emotional outlet, and I had heard him call her his human diary.

She had replaced me as his best friend.

Then he had kissed her.

After that, he saw me as a shadow, not as his best friend. He began to ignore me completely, turning to her instead of me.

So I confronted him, just the way I had nine years ago. I asked him why he had deserted me. I asked him why he had turned to her for comfort when I had always been there in the past.

And he had answered.

"I feel like I can tell you anything. I sometimes find myself telling you things that I never intended to tell anyone. I spill so much, I feel so at ease, that I almost feel threatened. I feel that if I allow myself to come to you for comfort, I will tell you my secret.

"This secret has been tearing me in two for four years. It has clawed at my heart, taken hold of my brain. When I get close to the subject of my secret, I feel as if my senses are on fire. I can hardly think, I can hardly speak, I can hardly move.

"If I keep telling you everything as I have done, I will one day let slip my secret and will be forever mortified."

Without another bit of explanation, he exited the room, and I saw her waiting for him outside.

What would he tell her tonight? What would I be kept in the dark about, while he told her, his hand playing with her curls?

I sat up for him, praying that I had not lost my best friend.

He came back very late, and I was sitting in an armchair, waiting. He saw me, and then hastened to the boys' staircase that led up to their dormitories.

"Are we still friends?" I asked, watching him disappear. He paused, and came back down the stairs. I stood up, and began walking towards him.

When we met each other in the center of the room, he stared at me; his eyes seemed to bore into mine. I tore my eyes away from his, and saw a muscle in his cheek twitching, his hands trembling. He sat down in the nearest armchair.

"My secret," He whispered. He pulled me into his lap. I felt his nose touching my cheek, his breath on my neck.

"I'm in love," He said.

"As am I," I whispered back. I felt his arms snake around me, pulling me closer.

"I'm in love with my best friend," He had whispered, barely audible.

"As am I," I echoed, equally as quiet.

Then he kissed me.

_I started writing another chapter for a different marauder, but I'm thinking of just leaving this with one chapter. Should I keep going and write one for all the marauders?_


	2. Night in Godric's Hollow

_Yay, I finally finished the second chapter! This one's for a different marauder than the first, and it has a different kind of spin to it. And I don't own any Harry Potter names or terms or anything mentioned in this story._

He's gone. He was the only one who gave me a chance, and now he's gone.

I never thought it would be him. Never. It had always been someone else in my mind. I had never thought of him in that way. Not until I got to know him, that is.

We had met during our seventh year at Hogwarts. He had always been strutting around the castle with his three best friends. He was never without them. The day I met him, I was standing with my back glued to the wall, watching three of the four Marauders' progress down the hall, hoping that one of them would finally notice me. Then, to my horror, I dropped my ink bottle.

Black ink splashed everywhere. All over me, the wall, the elegant purple carpet, and him. I winced, waiting to hear him snap at me, ask why I had to be so clumsy.

The exact opposite happened. He came over to me, digging into his robes and pulling out a handkerchief. He extended his hand, and I took the beautiful piece of white cloth from him. He smiled a timid smile and pointed to my shoes. I crouched down, beginning to scrub my shoes feverishly. Noticing that his shoes were also ink-covered, I began to clean them as well.

As soon as I did that, I felt stupid. I was polishing a boy's shoes. Lame.

Feeling me cleaning his shoes, he crouched down, and took my hand, stopping me. He smiled again, telling me not to worry and that he could easily clean his shoes later. I smiled, tucking a lock of my brown hair behind my ear, something I did when I was nervous. Our eyes met, and I could feel myself falling into the pools of color, his pupil widening as he crept a little closer.

Then, seeming to think what he was doing was stupid, he straightened up, blushing as his three friends shot him strange looks.

I knew why they were shooting him strange looks. I was in Slytherin.

'I'm not like the others,' I thought bitterly as the three other Marauders shot me cold looks.

It was true. I was not like the other Slytherins. I was kind, had no interest in the Dark Arts, and would never dream of killing anyone. I still wonder to this day why I had been put in Slytherin.

I never expected to talk to him again. I expected his friends to put ideas into his head that I was an evil, twisted witch who would kill him as soon as look at him.

To my surprise, and slight glee, almost the exact opposite happened.

He sought me out the next day.

I had just begun my breakfast in the Great Hall when I had felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and my eyes met the ones I had been captivated by the day before.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, stepping a bit to the side, indicating the seat next to mine.

"Not at all," I said, smiling.

"Thanks," He took the seat, and immediately pulled a plate of toast in front of him.

"But why?" I asked, feeling my cheeks burn as his eyes focused on me again. Why was I blushing? Sure, he was one of the four most popular boys in the entire school, and a Gryffindor no less, but why on earth was I blushing?

"Why am I sitting with you?" His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Because after yesterday, I don't know, I just thought I ought to get to know you better."

"But didn't your friends…" I trailed away as he chuckled.

"Yeah, they did," He said truthfully. "They said that you'd hex me as soon as look at me, but I just wanted to give you a chance."

Our breakfast meetings became morning rituals. I learned to ignore the stares the Slytherins and Gryffindors, the other three Marauders in particular, gave us. People whispered behind my back about how I had accidentally slipped a love potion in his drink, but I paid them no attention. I never even responded.

And now he's gone.

Our destinies took rather nasty turns after Hogwarts, but we were happy. We had to meet in secret as our superiors would have our heads if they knew about us.

But we kept at it. We kept meeting in different places each time, putting jinxes on our letters so only the intended could read them, but nothing turned him away from me.

We were married in secret, but even after that we could not have a proper husband and wife relationship. He had to dash off right after the ceremony on business for his boss. Both of us, to this day, remain virgins, never having the time to have what some refer to as, 'a wedding night.'

Then tragedy struck. His best friend was murdered by the Dark Lord.

He was heartbroken. It hurt so badly to look at his face when he found out. That was a rare occasion where another had seen us together.

He had run off as soon as he heard the news. He went to Godric's Hollow, to see for himself if it had really happened. I had begged him not to go, for it could only lead to disaster, but he insisted. I tried to convince him to allow me to come along as well, but he would not allow it.

"I don't want you to see it, my dear," He had said as he took me into his trembling arms and held me close.

"You don't have to go," I said as tears of fear and grief streamed down my face. "There will be a funeral where you can see them; don't go dashing off to their house at this hour."

"I must," He had said. He kissed me lightly before uttering a soft, "I love you, dear."

"I love you too," I called after him as he raced off into the distance.

I watched him Disapparate, and was immediately filled with remorse for not insisting on going with him. He loved his friends to death; he would surely break down seeing them like that.

I could save him from his grief. Now was no time to worry about the secrecy of our relationship. Our superiors could burn in Hades for all I cared. I was going with him.

I Disapparated to the street next to Godric's Hollow, not wanting to alarm the Muggles that had surely congregated around the house of the murders. I set off at a brisk pace to the end of the street, where I knew Godric's Hollow began.

I had reached the end of the street and had just begun walking down Godric's Hollow when I heard the explosion. My mind froze, and I stood still for a full ten seconds as I watched the street crumble.

Then, seeming to come to my senses, I ran. I turned back onto the street I had been on just seconds before and threw myself to the ground, my hands over my head. I kept my eyes open, and watched the intersection as Godric's Hollow crumbled.

A large rock flew over my head, and I buried my face in the ground, my eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see anything.

After a few seconds, all was still. I opened my eyes and stood up. The night was perfectly silent.

I cautiously looked around the corner to see Godric's Hollow. The entire street had been blown out. I put a hand to my mouth as I noticed a body lying in the center of the street, a muggle by the looks of him. He had not been as luck as I.

I peered through the night down to where I knew the killing had been. Through the darkness, I saw countless wizards Apparating and Disapparating, many falling to their knees as they appeared.

And through all this, I saw the one responsible. He stood there, laughing, as Aurors swarmed around him, grabbing hold of his arms and dragging him away from the house. My hand went to my heart when I saw him there.

He had been their best friend. They had trusted him. I had trusted him. And with one movement, he had taken away everything I had ever held dear in my life.

"What have you done?" I asked, feeling hate creep into my voice. I blinked tears out of my eyes, and then the awful truth hit me.

"He's gone," I whispered, and I collapsed to the ground, sobbing.


	3. Under the Mistletoe

_Part three is done! One more after this, plus the author's note that will tell all. :)_

_I do not own anything in this story except the narrator, the plotline, the idea, and the finished product._

"I'm sorry," he said, and released me from his embrace. "I can't do this." He pushed the common room portrait open, and walked briskly out, leaving me alone under the mistletoe.

The only thing I could think when I watched him go was, "This wasn't a good idea."

Of course it hadn't been a good idea. It hadn't even been my idea, rather the idea of my hopelessly romantic friends. This had all happened because of them.

The day had started out fine, just like any other day. I woke up to my friends' typical gossip about the whole who-likes-who nonsense, a subject that had never captured my interest. As they giggled away, I cleaned myself up and headed down to the Great Hall, my bag in hand.

I stopped a few feet away from the entrance of the Great Hall, standing perfectly still and watching with glassy eyes as the Marauders, the four most popular guys in the entire school, entered the Hall.

Well, I was, admittedly, only watching one of them.

He was trailing at the back of their little procession, looking slightly embarrassed. His cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them, and he had a sheepish smile on his face. He never had been one to march proudly around like the other three.

I came out of the 'Marauder trance' as he entered the Hall and was blocked from view. I came back to a conscious state, and walked into the Hall to eat breakfast.

No one concentrated in classes that day. It was the last day of term before the winter holidays, and people were more concerned with getting stuck under the mistletoe before half the school left than actually learning something.

My friends whispered behind their hands through all our classes, obviously determined with some mistletoe plan.

It was just my luck that they knew exactly which marauder it was that I always stared at, and that I always paid attention in class, so I didn't catch a word of their planning.

The three of them had strung up a branch of mistletoe in the common room.

Of course, that was not the full plan.

When they saw him coming towards the branch, one of them gave me a shove that sent me right into him. It knocked the book he was carrying to the floor, along with both of us.

"I'm so sorry!" I hastily picked up his book, since I was closer, and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he smiled and took it back.

It was that moment that my friends put the final part of their plan into action.

They all let out an obnoxious cheer, and when we looked at them, they pointed toward the ceiling.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the mistletoe. I looked at his reddening face, and attempted to smile.

"It's supposed to be bad luck," I said breathlessly. "To not get kissed under the mistletoe, I mean."

As soon as I heard these words leave my mouth, I wished I could take them back. This was something one of my friends would say, not me! I watched, mortified, as he bit his lip, obviously trying to come up with a good response to this blunder.

"Well, I wouldn't want either of us to have bad luck," he took me aback.

With my friends' eyes boring into my back, he pulled me closer, his book pressing into my back. He lowered his head slightly so our faces were less than an inch apart, and then…

He left the common room.

I turned and frowned at my friends before heading after him.

He hadn't gone far, and I was able to catch him by the arm before he started descending the stairs.

"I'm really sorry about all that," I said. "It was all probably some stupid plan my friends came up with."

"Oh," he seemed slightly surprised. "It's all right."

"No, it's not," I insisted, following as he began walking down the stairs. "You were put in a situation you didn't want to be in. I guarantee you'll get an apology from each one of them."

"No, really, it's all right," he turned pink. "I actually did want to kiss you."

As if he suddenly realized what he had said, he clapped a hand over his mouth, his face turning from pink to red in a matter of seconds.

"Well, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you?" I asked, confused.

"You'd end up getting hurt," he stopped his progress down the stairs. "I'm just not what you think I am. I care about you too much to hurt you like that."

"Well, can we at least be friends?" I asked as he began to walk up the stairs again.

"I'd like that," he smiled as the two of us walked back to the common room together.

He gave the Fat Lady the password, then waited for me to step into the common room before entering himself.

"What on earth?" he whispered, looking around the room.

As I looked around too, I noticed that practically every single person in the common room was kissing someone else.

"This is the Gryffindor common room, right?" I asked him, but from the look on his face, he was just as confused as I was.

"This is just bizarre," he his eyes traveled over two of the other Marauders, who actually had groups of girls around them, all trying to kiss them at the same time.

I shook my head and pinched myself, convinced I was dreaming. The pinch hurt a lot, so I assumed that everyone else had lost their minds instead.

Then I caught sight of my friends. They were sitting alone in a corner of the common room, watching the two of us with amusement. When they saw me looking, they all pointed to the ceiling again.

The entire ceiling was covered in mistletoe.

"Your friends are crazy," he said as I looked back at him, shrugging.

"And yours aren't?" I asked.

"Good point," he laughed. Then, quite suddenly, his expression changed. "I expect it will be at least a year's worth of bad luck to get out of here without kissing someone."

"If you say so," I my heart missed a beat.

"Of course, that much bad luck could drive someone insane," he took me into his arms. "They'd wind up depressed and living alone forever, convinced they've been cursed."

"That would be horrible," I agreed.

He bent down and whispered, "I'm sorry for what will come of this," into my ear.

And without any explanation, he kissed me.


	4. She Wants to Kiss Him

_Here is the final chapter! There is an author's note at the end telling who was who, so don't scroll down to the bottom unless you want to know!_

"She totally wants to kiss me," I heard him brag. Rolling my eyes rather than make a scene by starting a shouting match, I began to walk away.

Those gits! They think they're so popular! Just because they can get practically any girl in the school gives them no right to spread rumors about me! Please, who in their right mind would want to kiss him?

Shrugging, I continued walking, figuring that a long conversation with my best friend about how stupid all four of them were would make me feel a lot better.

I found her in the Gryffindor common room. She was alone in our usual corner, a book open on the table in front of her. Catching sight of me, she waved me over.

"What happened this time?" she asked, already knowing what must have happened.

"He said I wanted to kiss him," I made a noise of disgust.

"Well, you do," she said reasonably, starting the exact opposite conversation I wanted to have.

"Shut up!" I hissed. "I do not!"

"Judging by the way your face is beet red, I'd say you do," she began to laugh at the outraged look on my face. This laugh turned to silence almost immediately, as I had pulled out my wand and was pointing it at her.

"One more word, and you'll have to ooze to your next class," I frowned, feeling a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach.

"Just go take out your anger on him," she shrugged. "You know he won't do anything to you."

"I can't believe I didn't think of that before!" I exclaimed, jumping up, my wand still in my hand. "Even though I will be sinking down to his level, it'll be worth it."

With that, I rushed out of the common room, ready to vent all my frustration out on the person responsible.

But did I really want to?

No. This answer came unbidden into my mind. Of course I didn't want to. After all, no matter how I tried to deny it, I did sort of like him.

"No, snap out of it!" I coached myself, shaking my head. "There is absolutely no way in a million years that you would ever consider the fact that you like–"

"Crushing on someone?"

It was him. He was standing alone in the hallway, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and he wore his signature cocky smile.

"Bet it's me," he said lazily, faking a yawn. "So come on, everyone knows you're just dying to kiss me."

"Not a chance," I insisted, pointing my wand at him. The smile faded from his face slightly, and he straightened up, his back leaving its resting place on the wall.

"Come on, you wouldn't really hex your future husband, would you?"

"Who knows?" I stepped closer, having completely missed the part where he called himself my 'future husband.'

"What should we name our first child, then?" he asked, coming closer. "Why don't we name him after our Slytherin friend Snivellus?"

"You're so sexist!" I shook my head. "Not all firstborns are boys, you know!"

"Fine, then if it's a girl, we'll name her Bellatrix," he laughed.

"You know that I would never in a million years marry you!" I shouted, pointing my wand directly between his eyes.

"You're so cute when you're mad," he came closer and put his arm around my shoulders.

"You're ugly no matter what," I spat back, though I still blushed at the fact that we were so close together. "And I hate you."

"Ouch," he rubbed his chest with the arm that was not around my shoulders. "That hurt."

"Good," I shrugged his arm off my shoulders and began to walk away. "Your ego needs some deflating."

"Wait, come back!" he hurried to catch up with me, then fell into step beside me.

"What?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Wanna go out with me?" he asked, his eyes shining with the hopeful glint I saw every time he asked me.

"If I say yes will you promise to leave me alone for the rest of my life?"

"Well, technically that wouldn't be a fair term," he began, and I could tell I was in for another one of his, 'there's a loophole in your theory' speeches. "You see, in order for us to actually go on said date, I would have to be there with you, which technically wouldn't be leaving you alone. And unless we just sat somewhere looking off in different directions, again, I would not be leaving you alone."

"Fine," I was prepared to change my terms. After all, this was my chance to get the most annoying Marauder off my back once and for all. "If I go out on a date with you, will you promise to leave me alone for the rest of my life following the date?"

"Hmm…" he tapped his index finger to his chin, pretending to think. "Only if you kiss me." He smiled, but it wasn't the wickedly superior smile I had expected. This one looked hopeful.

"Never mind," I began walking away again. "You're not that annoying."

Leaving him looking crestfallen in the middle of the hallway, I began to laugh. This was better than any spell I could have thrown his way.

A few steps later, I began to feel guilty. Here I was, walking away from the boy I liked, having him think I hated him. Sighing, and feeling stupid, I turned around.

"Yes?"

I screamed and leapt back a few feet. He had been following silently, less than a foot away from me.

"Don't do that!" I gasped.

"Sorry," he said, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "I couldn't resist."

"No, I'm sorry," I insisted, taking a few steps closer to him. "I'm sorry about what I said. I don't hate you, and I wouldn't want you to leave me alone forever."

"Really?" he asked, the hopeful look back in his face.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I mean, you do have a big ego, but sometimes you can be pretty nice."

"Thanks," he put his arm around my shoulders again. "Want to go out with me?"

"Would you stop asking me that?" I laughed. "Why do you keep doing that anyway? You can get any girl in the entire school, and you insist on bugging me all the time."

"I dunno, maybe because I like you," his cocky smile was back.

"You know, one thing about you that's really frustrating," I shrugged his arm off again so I could stand face to face, "is never knowing when you're serious or joking."

"Well I didn't know it was that big of a problem," he said, this time obviously pretending to be shocked. Then, taking me completely aback, he pulled me closer and kissed me on the cheek.

"What was that?" I asked, touching the spot and feeling it tingle.

"You tell me," he said, offering me his arm.

* * *

_Thanks for reading the story! Now, you obviously want to know which chapter was for which Marauder, otherwise you wouldn't have read down so far! Okay, I'll tell you. But feel free to tell me who you thought it was if you thought differently!_

_Chapter 1: Sirius. Need proof? Here you go: _

'He would appear out of nowhere...'_ Sirius's house is in a muggle neighborhood, as is shown in the fifth book. His parents would not want muggles visiting their house or anything, so they most likely put charms on it to make it invisible to them._

'No parents I knew...'_ The narrator would not have known Sirius's parents, because they do not talk to muggles. Remus's or James's parents might have known the neighbors. I don't know enough about Peter to really say anything about his parents, though._

_Chapter 2: Peter. Yes, I know, shocker. Here's the proof:_

'I never thought it would be him...'_ Who's gonna pick Peter when Sirius, James, and Remus are around? Honestly?_

'He smiled a timid smile...'_ Peter would be the timid one around people he doesn't really know. James and Sirius are cocky, and Remus, although he wouldn't be as bold, would be confident._

'He went to Godric's Hollow...'_ I know Sirius did this as well, but, as the story goes on, he says, '_I don't want you to see it...'_ which shows he had some idea of what he was going to find._

_I know the end of this one makes it seem like it was Sirius, but it was Peter._

_Chapter 3: Remus. You thought it was Peter? Well..._

'He had never been one to march proudly...'_ From the way Remus is portrayed in the books, he seems like a more humble character than the other three, even Peter. Peter is fascinated by James and Sirius in the Pensive scene(OotP), while Remus is hiding behind his book._

'...the book he was carrying...'_ Remus is a bookworm. Need I say more?_

'I'm just not what you think I am...'_ Notice he didn't say 'who.' The 'what' part points to it being Remus, because werewolves are considered creatures, not humans._

_Chapter 4: James. DUH!!! But here's proof anyway..._

'She totally wants to kiss me...'_ James bragging about Lily, trying to get her to like him..._

'I would never in a million years marry you!'_ Lily hated James before they started going out._

'Wanna go out with me?"...every time he asked me...'_ James asked Lily to go out with him many times before she said yes._

_I hope you enjoyed the stories!_


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